


hold my hand consign me not to darkness

by areyoumarriedriver



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-12
Updated: 2014-10-12
Packaged: 2018-02-20 22:44:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2445899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/areyoumarriedriver/pseuds/areyoumarriedriver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Why is it us out here? We should reinstate the council-” Glenn offers but Rick shakes his head quickly.</p><p>“There’s not enough of us for that anymore, Glenn. This is it – I don’t want to be unchecked anymore,” Rick admits in a thick tone and Daryl grips his crossbow tighter as he listens. “Me, you and Daryl – we’re it. We decide. We’re the last left.”</p><p>“Where’s Carol?” Daryl finally pushes the words out that have been stuck in his throat since they got out there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	hold my hand consign me not to darkness

**_hold my hand consign me not to darkness_ **

Rick pulls on his sleeve, one-handed, while cradling Judith in his arms – clearly unable to let the baby go, he holds her like she may disappear at any given moment. Carl hovers at his side, one hand on the baby’s tiny socked foot. “We need to talk,” Rick’s voice is a harsh whisper and his hold on Judith tightens as Daryl nods and pushes himself up from the floor where he’d been resting against a pew. He feels old. Drained. Just absolutely _hollow_ from everything that has happened.

Rick telling him Carol was gone, the tank, the fight, the running, the absolute and utter despair at the loss of his entire family – the loss of Beth. Terminus – the next fight – finally seeing Tyreese and Judith and _Carol_. He feels like his life has been slammed into fast forward, with no time to even catch on to the plot – it blurs by him, just out of his grasp.

Rick reluctantly hands Judith to Carl, sits him down in a pew and runs a hand through his hair as he and Daryl stumble outside of the little church, to where Glenn is waiting. Rick wastes no time, turning to them both, his hands on his hips and his head dropping as he contemplates the toes of his boots. “We need to decide what to do next,” his voice is raspy with fatigue, and Glenn shifts uneasily.

“Why is it us out here? We should reinstate the council-” Glenn offers but Rick shakes his head quickly.

“There’s not enough of us for that anymore, Glenn. This is it – I don’t want to be unchecked anymore,” Rick admits in a thick tone and Daryl grips his crossbow tighter as he listens. “Me, you and Daryl – we’re it. We decide. We’re the last left.”

“Where’s Carol?” Daryl finally pushes the words out that have been stuck in his throat since they got out there.

“Carol?” Rick frowns and Daryl huffs in annoyance as he turns to his friend.

“Yeah, _Carol_. We’re the last left – from Atlanta. Her too. She should be here – she’s every bit as good as any of us,” he speaks slowly, savouring the familiarity of the words as Glenn nods in agreement.

“He’s right. She’s the last left too,” Glenn shrugs. Daryl eyes him – the kid has been carrying himself differently since they all met up again in that boxcar. He’s not sure what changed, but it’s clear just by the way he stands that he’s done blindly following orders. Daryl’s not sure if it’s the council that changed him, or the time on the road, but there is a defiance in the young Korean that Daryl smirks to see. “We should get her.”

“I don’t know that she’ll want to-” Rick starts and Daryl shakes his head sharply, silencing the man.

“Course she will – this is her family too.”

“Knew my ears were red,” her voice is low behind them and they all turn to see her, leaning against the porch railing, her rifle slung over her shoulder and her body relaxed enough that Daryl wonders how long she’d been lurking there. As if she can _hear_ his thoughts she gestures over her shoulder with her chin. “I had watch, remember?” She’d been the first to volunteer – along with Abraham, who clearly must have taken the back, while she took the front.

She settles on to the porch steps with a soft sigh, sliding her gun across her knees as she runs a hand through her hair. “You guys didn’t even notice me – not very observant,” she’s teasing, Daryl knows. The tilt of her head as she looks at him and he shrugs it off with ease.

“Pft, knew you were there the whole time,” the lie is so easy he thinks maybe it’s partially the truth. Maybe some part of him is always aware when she’s nearby. The only reason she hadn’t been right next to him when Rick called him to this meeting was that she’d escaped. Volunteered for first watch – desperate to get away. From what, he didn’t know. The group, the church – _him_?

“What’re our options?” She asks calmly, ignoring the fact that Rick had just protested her input. Glenn smiles at that, and tilts his head.

“Abe says they have a cure – wants to head to Washington,” he offers with a frown. “I’m not entirely sure I believe him. I mean I believe Abe believes it – but Eugene – the man is worse than useless. Can barely shoot a walker, panics and makes mistakes. Maybe he lied – for protection.”

“Have you spoken to him much?” Rick asks after a beat, clearly not intending to argue Carol’s inclusion in their pow-wow. “Does he seem like the type?”

“Does anyone? Is there even a type anymore, Rick?” Carol asks out loud, her fingers curling around her gun. “People do what they feel they have to in order to survive. I think if we all know one thing, it’s that any of us are capable of anything, at any given time.” An awkward silence falls at that, but Daryl watches her – the way the moonlight gilds her skin, turning her hair silvery and her eyes pale as they refuse to look away from Rick’s.

“Carol’s right. Shit, what’s a lie for self-preservation these days? Still… Washington’s north. Colder weather to contend with. Less chance of living off the land – ‘specially in the next few months.” Winter was coming, and they all knew it. It’d been hard enough to get through the mild Georgian winter on the road that first year. Further north and they’d have to contend with all kinds of shit – snow and ice and weather issues.

“Might slow the Walkers down,” Glenn offers and Rick moves, shifting and rolling his shoulders as he nods. “I mean… they’d have to freeze right? Have been freezing all through last winter too? Maybe there’s less.”

“Or they’re like wood frogs,” Carol’s voice is soft and reluctant, but there is a hard realism in it that Daryl is proud to hear. “Freeze solid, all damn winter. Preserves them – come spring they just thaw out and hop off like nothing happened. So maybe Walkers are like that too – and the ones up north are a bit fresher for it.”

“I- I don’t know,” Rick sounds dumbfounded as he looks around the small circle. “What do you think?” He looks at Carol as he says it, and Daryl feels a warmth bubble in his chest to see it. Glenn is nodding encouragingly and Carol sits up straight – as if Rick has shocked her, caught her out – just for a moment.

“I think we’re screwed either way,” she huffs out a laugh. “Weather wise – they’re everywhere, honestly. T and I used to talk about it sometimes at night – he always kept pushing for the shore. Go to the coast, find an island. One of those small ones – with a bridge to land. Walkers suck at swimming, right? Or a boat. Make shore runs. North, South, East, West – does it really matter? Washington’s pretty close to the coast, right? I’m shit at geography – always was,” she offers with a smile and Rick nods slowly.

“Awful long ways away though.” Daryl offers. “And not quite the coast – Potomac River. Lots of peninsulas that might work the same way though.” Everyone blinks at him in confusion and he shrugs.

“Was a hell of a long trip even before all this happened. We could – Savannah has islands, just off the coast,” Rick offers slowly. “We could go there instead…”

“Would Savannah be any better than Atlanta was though?” Carol offers and Rick hesitates, unsure.

“I think Washington is better. If nothing else, Abe and Rosita are two strong additions to the group. And Eugene can’t shoot the broad side of a barn, but the dude is wicked smart,” Glenn speaks up. “It’ll take longer, but where the hell else do we have to be?”

“Worse comes to worse, we deliver them to Washington and light out for the east coast – Delaware. Or hell, we could light out west toward Virginia or go north to Pennsylvania. Loads of national parks and forests in the area – we could figure something out,” Daryl grumbles and everyone stares at him.

“Jesus, what are you, Mapquest?” Glenn laughs and Rick chuckles as Carol smothers a grin.

“More like Google maps, Glenn, was your internet from 2000? Christ,” Daryl shoots back and Carol laughs out loud at that. Rick grins, tension bleeding from his frame.

“So Washington? We’re all agreed? And then…” Rick trails off and Carol nods.

“See where the road takes us.” Rick nods, seemingly at ease with the decision they’ve come to.

“Right, I’m gonna go help Carl feed Judy,” he slips up the stairs, pausing only to hesitantly squeeze Carol’s shoulder before he slips back inside the church.

“You want me to take over watch Carol?” Glenn offers her and she smiles but shakes her head.

“No, thank you Glenn. I like it better out here anyway – easier to breathe,” she looks up at the stars and he nods slowly, glaring at Daryl significantly before he moves up the stairs after Rick. Daryl huffs, well no _shit_ , Glenn. Like he hasn’t been trying to get a minute alone with her since she appeared in the woods like some fucking warrior queen. He trudges up the steps and settles down beside her, so close his shoulder nudges hers and their thighs are pressing against each other.

He feels like he still isn’t close enough though, wants to be near enough to watch the pulse jump in her throat erratically just so he knows she’s still alive. “How come you ran out so fast?” He finally asks, tensing as he waits for her response. He wants to ask more directly – was it me? Something I did? – but he’s terrified as it is.

“Churches,” she offers finally, her hand stroking the skin just below her throat reflexively. “Don’t feel the same any more. Haven’t really been in one since…” _Sophia_ goes unspoken but Daryl hears it plain as day anyway. He nods, the tension leaving his body as he leans into her a bit.

“S’alright.”

“Daryl…” her voice is slow like honey and he frowns, turning toward her so he can study her face intently. “What you said there – about me being every bit as good as you all. I-” Her voice chokes up then, and he knows. He knows just how she feels because he felt the same damn way when she’d given him the gift of those words so long ago. She made him feel like he was worth something – and though he meant that in an entirely different way than he meant it when he said it about her, he knew how it felt. To be believed in.

“You are. You’re not that burden anymore Carol, hell, you’re stronger than all of us I think. Who here’s been through what you’ve been through? And still made it? You earned your place here, _you_ earned that. It’s you, not me.” He avoids looking at her as he speaks quickly and he can hear her gun shift, clatter to the floor boards next to her as she makes a sound of protest. Quick as a flash her hands are on her forearms, pulling him until he turns to her.

He’s not sure what he expected, but it sure as hell wasn’t her small hands soft on his face as she snuck in, quick as a rattler, and pressed her mouth to his. He gasps in shock, but she steals that breath for herself as she leans in closer, her lips firm against his. He manages to recover the second before she begins to pull away, his hands fumbling with his crossbow, tangling in the strap as he reaches for her elbow, tugging her closer, keeping her in place.

He softens the kiss – turns it into something less desperate, less vicious. She hums at that, one of her hands sliding into his hair and gripping tightly as she sighs right back into him, her mouth opening and her body pressing closer to his. Her tongue is warm when it winds into his mouth, and he thinks he’s never tasted anything better than her. He manages to slide his hands to her waist finally, just as she pulls back, out of breath and flushed. Her eyes look as silver as her hair in the moonlight and he is so close to her he can see the freckles scattered across her face, mixed up with dirt and flecks of blood she must have missed when she cleaned up earlier. She looks fucking beautiful, and he doesn’t know how to _say_ that without sounding like a giant pussy, so he growls in frustration instead.

She presses her forehead to his, murmuring apologies to him as her fingers stroke the skin of his neck, just behind his ears. “Daryl, you don’t know what that meant to me,” she starts and he shakes her slightly, shaking his head along with it.

“Yeah, I did. Same thing it meant to me when you said it.”

She smiles at that, licking her lips and pulling back to bring her hand back to his face. Her thumb rubs over his mouth and he smiles at the feel of it against his skin. “Maybe it was both of us. Together. Without you I don’t know who I’d be right now, Daryl.”

He swallows painfully, realising she’s right. He doesn’t know who the fuck he’d be without her. He’s not even sure if he’d have stayed without her there to anchor him. Without Sophia to give him purpose like she had. He nods in agreement, not able to say it the way she can, and she smiles, leaning closer and pressing a kiss to his jaw, just below the corner of his mouth. The simple touch makes his insides squeeze and jump five inches left, and he lets out a sound of surprise at it. He doesn’t know how to say it back to her – make her understand that she changed everything – her and that little girl.

She pulls back, loops an arm through his and leans into him, her head on his shoulder as if this is something they’ve always done. His heart still races in his chest, but he picks up his crossbow with his free hand as they keep their eyes focussed outward, looking for any sign of trouble. He feels her pull her rifle back into her lap, her free hand curling across the metal barrel of her gun, and he knows she knows. Without him having to say a word. He smiles at that, letting his arm relax until he can take her hand in his, lacing their fingers together tightly, his eyes fastened on the moonlit landscape around them as she chuckles.

“Look how far we’ve come now,” she offers is a soft voice and his smile twitches at the corners, flirting with the idea of becoming a grin.

“Yeah.”


End file.
